She's feeling it ...

She set up her stand, prettified and titivated, in readiness for the evening fair.  She and her fellow traders, in the beautiful Treasurer’s House, listening to festive music and hanging fairylights.

She whizzed home, changed into her gladrags and they set off for their favourite village pub.

  He treated her to lunch … because she’s worth it!!!! 

Welcoming flames warmed the chill.

Freshly baked pork pies still warm from the oven set on a time worn wooden board with fruity chutney and a little pail of crisp chunky chips.  Hot sticky toffee pud and honeycomb vanilla ice cream melting into a pool of glistening caramel sauce.  Ravenously hungry, she devoured the lot before remembering to take a photo!

They only had one each!

A leisurely wander through Sherborne, home to pick up the little man and then as evening approached she returned to the Treasurer’s House for an evening of shopping by fairylight.  A wonderful Medieval house with Great Hall, completed in 1293.  The perfect setting for this wonderful annual event. 

Little Crooked House

Beautiful stalls manned by friends who work so very hard.  She sold gifts galore - candles and cards, buttons and jars.  Thank you dear customers.

Jozef Mesar Woodcarving

And thank you RP & EP (lady with the lovely smile and enviable hairstyle) for your acceptance of invasion, your time, lamps, tea ... !

Happy faces, twinkling lights and air rich with the scent of mince pies and mulled spices.  She welcomed Christmas back with open arms last night!

The fires will be lit for the first time tonight!

Beechwood fires burn bright and clear

If the logs are kept for a year;

Store your beech for Christmastide

With new cut holly laid beside;

Chestnut's only good, they say,

If for years 'tis stored away;

Birch and fir-wood burn too fast

Blaze too bright and do not last;

Flames from larch will shoot up high,

But ash-wood green and ash-wood brown

Are fit for a Queen with a golden crown.

Oaken logs if dry and old,

Keep away the winter's cold;

Poplar gives a bitter smoke,

Fills your eyes and makes you choke,

Elm-wood burns like churchyard mould,

E'en the very flames are cold;

Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread -

So it is in Ireland said;

Apple-wood will scent the room,

Pear-wood smells like flowers in bloom,

But ash-wood wet and ash-wood dry,

A King may warm his slippers by.

Anon.